The Standard Operas Part 17

WEBER.

Carl Maria von Weber was born Dec. 18, 1786, at Eutin, and may almost be said to have been born on the stage, as his father was at the head of a theatrical company, and the young Carl was carried in the train of the wandering troupe all over Germany. His first lessons were given to him by Henschkel, conductor of the orchestra of Duke Friedrich of Meiningen. At the age of fourteen he wrote his first opera, "Das Waldmadchen," which was performed several times during the year 1800.

In 1801 appeared his two-act comic opera, "Peter Schmoll and his Neighbors," and during these two years he also frequently played in concerts with great success. He then studied with the Abbe Vogler, and in his eighteenth year was engaged for the conductorship of the Breslau opera. About this time appeared his first important opera, "Rubezahl." At the conclusion of his studies with Vogler he was made director of the Opera at Prague. In 1814 he wrote a cantata, "The Lyre and Sword," for a festive occasion, and it was greeted with the wildest enthusiasm. In 1816 he went to Berlin, where he was received with the highest marks of popular esteem, and thence to Dresden as Hofcapellmeister. This was the most brilliant period in his career. It was during this time that he married Caroline Brandt, the actress and singer, who had had a marked influence upon his musical progress, and to whom he dedicated his exquisite "Invitation to the Dance." The first great work of his life, "Der Freischutz," was written at this period. Three other important operas followed,--"Preciosa,"

"Euryanthe," the first performance of which took place in Vienna in 1823, and "Oberon," which he finished in London and brought out there.

Weber's last days were spent in the latter city; and it was while making preparations to return to Germany, which he longed to see again, that he was stricken down with his final illness. On the 4th of June, 1826, he was visited by Sir George Smart, Moscheles, and other musicians who were eager to show him attention. He declined to have any one watch by his bedside, thanked them for their kindness, bade them good-by, and then turned to his friend Furstenau and said, "Now let me sleep." These were his last words. The next morning he was found dead in his bed. He has left a rich legacy of works besides his operas,--a large collection of songs, many cantatas (of which "The Jubilee," with its brilliant overture, is the finest), some ma.s.ses, of which that in E flat is the most beautiful, and several concertos, besides many brilliant rondos, polaccas, and marches for the piano.

DER FREISCHuTZ.

"Der Freischutz," a romantic opera in three acts, words by Friedrich Kind, was first produced at Berlin, June 18, 1821. It is one of the most popular operas in the modern repertory. It was first performed in Paris, Dec. 7, 1824, as "Robin des Bois," with a new libretto by Castile Blaze and Sauvage, and many changes in the score, such as divertiss.e.m.e.nts made up of the dance-music in "Preciosa" and "Oberon,"

and of "The Invitation to the Dance," scored by Berlioz. In 1841 it was again given in Paris, with an accurate translation of the text by Pacini, and recitatives added by Berlioz, as "Le Franc Archer." Its first English performance in London was given July 22, 1824, as "Der Freischutz, or the Seventh Bullet," with several ballads inserted; and its first Italian at Covent Garden, March 16, 1850, with recitatives by Costa, as "Il Franco Arciero." So popular was it in England in 1824 that no less than nine theatres were presenting various versions of it at the same time. The original cast was as follows:--

AGATHA Frau CAROLINE SEIDLER.

ANNCHEN Frl. JOHANNA EUNIKE.

MAX Herr CARL STuMER.

CASPAR Herr HEINRICH BLUME.

OTTAKAR Herr RUBINSTEIN.

KUNO Herr WANER.

HERMIT Herr GERN.

KILIAN Herr WIEDEMANN.

The text of the opera is taken from a story in "Popular Tales of the Northern Nations," and is founded upon a traditionary belief that a demon of the forest furnishes a marksman with unerring bullets cast under magical influences. Kuno, the head ranger to the Prince of Bohemia, too old to longer continue in his position, recommends Max, a skilful marksman, who is betrothed to his daughter Agatha, as his successor. The Prince agrees to accept him if he proves himself victor at the forthcoming hunting-match. Caspar, the master-villain of the play, who has sold himself to the demon Zamiel, and who also is in love with Agatha, forms a plot to ruin Max and deliver him over to Zamiel as a subst.i.tute for himself, for the limit of his contract with the Evil One is close at hand. With Zamiel's aid he causes Max to miss the mark several times during the rehearsals for the match. The lover is thrown into deep dejection by his ill luck, and while in this melancholy condition is cunningly approached by Caspar, who says to him that if he will but repeat the formula, "In the name of Zamiel,"

he will be successful. He does so, and brings down an eagle soaring high above him.

Elated with his success, Caspar easily persuades him that he can win the match if he will meet him at midnight in the Wolf's Glen, where with Zamiel's aid he can obtain plenty of magic bullets.

The second act opens in Kuno's house, and shows us Agatha melancholy with forebodings of coming evil. A hermit whom she has met in the woods has warned her of danger, and given her a wreath of magic roses to ward it off. An ancestral portrait falling from the walls also disturbs her; and at last the appearance of the melancholy Max confirms her belief that trouble is in store for her. Max himself is no less concerned. All sorts of strange sounds have troubled him, and his slumbers have been invaded with apparitions. Nevertheless, he goes to the Wolf's Glen; and though spectres, skeletons, and various grotesque animals terrify him, and his mother's spirit appears and warns him away, he overcomes his fright and appears with Caspar at the place of incantation. Zamiel is summoned, and seven bullets are cast, six of which are to be directed by Max himself in the forthcoming match, while the seventh will be at the disposal of the demon. Little dreaming the fate which hangs upon the seventh, Caspar offers no objections.

The third act opens, like the last, in Kuno's house, and discovers Agatha preparing for her nuptials, and telling Annchen a singular dream she has had. She had fancied herself a dove, and that Max fired at her. As the bird fell she came to herself and saw that the dove had changed to a fierce bird of ill omen which lay dying at her feet. The melancholy produced by the dream is still further heightened when it is found that a funeral instead of a bridal wreath has been made for her; but her heart lightens up again as she remembers the magic rose-wreath which the hermit had enjoined her to wear on her wedding day. At last the eventful day of trial comes, and the Prince and all his courtiers a.s.semble to witness the match. Max makes six shots in succession which go home to the mark. At the Prince's command he fires the seventh, Zamiel's bullet, at a dove flying past. As he fires, Agatha appears to him as the dove, and he fancies he has slain her.

The wreath protects her, however, and Zamiel directs the bullet to Caspar's heart. The demon claims his victim, and Max his bride, amid general rejoicing.

The overture, which is one of the most favorite numbers of its cla.s.s in the concert-room as well as in the opera-house, is a masterpiece of brilliant and descriptive instrumentation, and furnishes us with a key to the whole story in its announcement of the leading themes. It opens with an adagio horn pa.s.sage of great beauty, giving us the groundwork of the entire action; and then follow motives from Max's grand scena in the first act, the Incantation music, Agatha's moonlight scene, and other episodes connected with the action of Max and Caspar. Indeed, the frequent and expressive use of the _Leit motif_ all through the work seem to ent.i.tle Weber to the credit of its invention.

The first act opens with a spirited chorus of villagers, followed by a lively march and a comic song by Kilian, in which he rallies Max upon his bad luck. The next number is a trio and chorus, with solos for the princ.i.p.als, Max, Kuno, and Caspar ("O diese Sonne, furchtbar steigt sie mir empor"). Max laments his fate, but Kuno encourages him, while Caspar insinuates his evil plot. The trio is of a sombre cast at the beginning, but by a sudden change the horns and an expressive combination of the chorus give it a cheerful character. It is once more disturbed, however, by Caspar's ominous phrases, but at last Kuno and his men cheer up the despondent lover with a brisk hunting-chorus, and the villagers dance off to a lively waltz tempo. Max is left alone, and the next number is a grand tenor scene. It opens with a gloomy recitative, which lights up as he thinks of Agatha, and then pa.s.ses into one of the most tender and delicious of melodies ("Durch die Walder, durch die Auen"), set to a beautiful accompaniment.

Suddenly the harmony is clouded by the apparition of Zamiel, but as he disappears, Max begins another charming melody ("Jetzt ist wohl ihr Fenster offen"), which is even more beautiful than the first. As Zamiel reappears the harmony is again darkened; but when despairing Max utters the cry, "Lives there no G.o.d!" the wood-demon disappears, and the great song comes to an end. In this mood Caspar meets him, and seeks to cheer him with an hilarious drinking-song ("Hier im ird'schen Jammerthal"), furious in its energy, and intended to express unhallowed mirth. The act closes with Caspar's ba.s.s aria of infernal triumph ("Triumph! die Rache, die Rache gelingt"), accompanied by music which is wonderfully weird and shadowy in its suggestions.

The second act opens with a duet ("Schelm! halt fest") in which Agatha's fear and anxiety are charmingly contrasted with the lightsome and cheery nature of Annchen, her attendant, and this in turn is followed by a naive and coquettish arietta ("Kommt ein schlanker Bursch gegangen") sung by the latter. Annchen departs, and Agatha, opening her window and letting the moonlight flood the room, sings the famous scena and prayer, "Leise, leise, fromme Weise," beginning, after a few bars of recitative, with a melody full of prayer and hope and tender longings, shaded with vague presentiment. It is an adagio of exquisite beauty, closing with an ecstatic outburst of rapture ("Alle meine Pulse schlagen") as she beholds her lover coming. The melody has already been heard in the overture, but its full joy and splendid sweep are attained only in this scene. In the next scene we have a trio ("Wie? was? Entsetzen?") between Max, Annchen, and Agatha, in which the musical discrimination of character is carried to a fine point; and the act concludes with the incantation music in the Wolf's Glen, which has never been surpa.s.sed in weirdness, mystery, and diablerie, and at times in actual sublimity. Its real power lies in the instrumentation; not alone in its vivid and picturesque presentation of the melodramatic scene with its hideous surroundings, but in its expressiveness and appositeness to the action and sentiment by the skilful use of motives.

The last act has an instrumental prelude foreshadowing the Hunters'

Chorus. It opens with a graceful but somewhat melancholy aria of a religious character ("Und ob die Wolke sie verhulle"), sung by Agatha, in which she is still wavering between doubt and hope, and succeeded by another of Annchen's arias, beginning with the gloomy romance, "Einst traumte meiner sel'gen Base," and closing with a lively allegro ("Trube Augen, Liebchen"), which is intended to encourage her sad mistress. Then the bridesmaids sing their lively chorus, "Wir winden dir den Jungfern-Kranz," so well known by its English t.i.tle, "A rosy Crown we twine for Thee." The pretty little number is followed by the Hunters' Chorus, "Was gleicht wohl auf Erden dem Jagervergnugen,"

which is a universal favorite. It leads up to a strong dramatic finale, crowded with striking musical ideas, and containing Agatha's beautiful melody in the closing chorus.

Few operas have had such world-wide popularity as "Der Freischutz,"

and yet it is an essentially German product. The composer's son has aptly characterized it, in his Biography of his father: "Weber did not compose 'Der Freischutz;' he allowed it to grow out of the rich soil of his brave German heart, and to expand leaf by leaf, blossom by blossom, fostered by the hand of his talent; and thus no German looks upon the opera as a work of art which appeals to him from without. He feels as if every line of the work came from his own heart, as if he himself had dreamed it so, and it could no more sound otherwise than the rustling of an honest German beech-wood."

OBERON.

"Oberon, or the Elf King's Oath," a romantic and fairy opera in three acts, words by J.R. Planche, was first produced at Covent Garden, London, April 12, 1826, in English. Its first Italian performance was given in the same city, July 3, 1860, the recitatives being supplied by Benedict, who also added several numbers from "Euryanthe." The original cast was as follows:--

REIZA Miss PATON.

FATIMA Mme. VESTRIS.

PUCK Miss CAWSE.

HUON Mr. BRAHAM.

OBERON Mr. BLAND.

SHERASMIN Mr. FAWCETT.

MERMAID Miss GOWNELL.

The librettist, Planche, in a tribute to Weber, gives the origin of the story of "Oberon." It appeared originally in a famous collection of French romances, "La Bibliotheque Bleue," under the t.i.tle of "Huon of Bordeaux." The German poet Wieland adopted the princ.i.p.al incidents of the story as the basis of his poem, "Oberon," and Sotheby's translation of it was used in the preparation of the text. The original sketch of the action, as furnished by Planche, is as follows:--

Oberon, the Elfin King, having quarrelled with his fairy partner, vows never to be reconciled to her till he shall find two lovers constant through peril and temptation. To seek such a pair his 'tricksy spirit,' Puck, has ranged in vain through the world. Puck, however, hears the sentence pa.s.sed on Sir Huon of Bordeaux, a young knight, who, having been insulted by the son of Charlemagne, kills him in single combat, and is for this condemned by the monarch to travel to Bagdad to slay him who sits on the Caliph's left hand, and to claim his daughter as his bride. Oberon instantly resolves to make this pair the instruments of his reunion with his queen, and for this purpose he brings up Huon and Sherasmin asleep before him, enamours the knight by showing him Reiza, daughter of the Caliph, in a vision, transports him at his waking to Bagdad, and having given him a magic horn, by the blasts of which he is always to summon the a.s.sistance of Oberon, and a cup that fills at pleasure, disappears. Here Sir Huon rescues a man from a lion, who proves afterwards to be Prince Babekan, who is betrothed to Reiza. One of the properties of the cup is to detect misconduct. He offers it to Babekan.

On raising it to his lips the wine turns to flame, and thus proves him a villain. He attempts to a.s.sa.s.sinate Huon, but is put to flight. The knight then learns from an old woman that the princess is to be married next day, but that Reiza has been influenced, like her lover, by a vision, and is resolved to be his alone. She believes that fate will protect her from her nuptials with Babekan, which are to be solemnized on the next day. Huon enters, fights with and vanquishes Babekan, and having spell-bound the rest by a blast of the magic horn, he and Sherasmin carry off Reiza and Fatima. They are soon shipwrecked. Reiza is captured by pirates on a desert island and brought to Tunis, where she is sold to the Emir and exposed to every temptation, but she remains constant. Sir Huon, by the order of Oberon, is also conveyed thither. He undergoes similar trials from Roshana, the jealous wife of the Emir, but proving invulnerable she accuses him to her husband, and he is condemned to be burned on the same pile with Reiza. They are rescued by Sherasmin, who has the magic horn. Oberon appears with his queen, whom he has regained by their constancy, and the opera concludes with Charlemagne's pardon of Huon.

The overture, like that of "Der Freischutz," reflects the story, and is universally popular. Its leading themes are the horn solo, which forms the symphony of Sir Huon's vision, a short movement from the fairies' chorus, a martial strain from the last scene in the court of Charlemagne, a pa.s.sage from Reiza's scene in the second act, and Puck's invocation of the spirits.

The first act opens in Oberon's bower with a melodious chorus of fairies and genii ("Light as fairy Feet can fall"), followed by a solo for Oberon ("Fatal Oath"), portraying his melancholy mood, and "The Vision," a quaint, simple melody by Reiza ("Oh! why art thou sleeping?"), which leads up to a splendid ensemble ("Honor and Joy to the True and the Brave"), containing a solo for Oberon, during which the scene suddenly changes from the fairy bower to the city of Bagdad.

Huon has a grand scena ("Oh! 't is a Glorious Sight"), a composition in several movements beginning with a dramatic bravura ill.u.s.trative of the scenes of the battlefield, and closing with a joyous, brisk allegretto ("Joy to the high-born Dames of France"). The finale begins with an aria by Reiza ("Yes, my Lord"), in the Italian style, pa.s.sing into a duet for Reiza and Fatima, and closing with the chorus ("Now the Evening Watch is set.")

The second act opens with a characteristic chorus ("Glory to the Caliph"), the music of which has been claimed by some critics as genuinely Moorish, though it is probable that Weber only imitated that style in conformity to the demands of the situation. A little march and three melodramatic pa.s.sages lead up to an arietta for Fatima ("A lovely Arab Maid"), beginning with a very pleasing minor and closing in a lively major. This leads directly to the lovely quartet, "Over the Dark Blue Waters,"--one of the most attractive numbers in the opera. It is a concerted piece for two sopranos, tenor, and ba.s.s, opening with two responsive solos in duet, first for the ba.s.s and tenor, and then for the two sopranos, the voices finally uniting in a joyous and animated movement of great power. The music now pa.s.ses to the supernatural, and we have Puck's invocation to the spirits, whom he summons to raise a storm and sink the vessel in which the lovers have embarked. Puck's recitative is very powerful, and the chorus of the spirits in response, a very rapid presto movement, is in its way as effective as the incantation music in "Der Freischutz." The storm rises, the orchestra being the medium of the description, which is very graphic and effective. Huon has a short prayer ("Ruler of this Awful Hour"), which is impressively solemn, and then follows Reiza's magnificent apostrophe to the sea ("Ocean, thou mighty Monster that liest curled like a green Serpent round about the World"). The scene is heroic in its construction, and its effective performance calls for the highest artistic power. It represents the gradual calm of the angry waters, the breaking of the sun through the gloom, and the arrival of a boat to the succor of the distressed Reiza. The immense effect of the scene is greatly enhanced by the descriptive instrumentation, especially in the allegro describing the rolling of the billows and the recitative and succeeding andante picturing the outburst of the sun. The mermaid's song ("Oh! 't is pleasant"), with its wavy, flowing melody, forms a fitting pendant to this great picture of elementary strife; and a delicate and graceful chorus closes the act.

The third act opens with a lovely song for Fatima ("Oh! Araby, dear Araby"), consisting of two movements,--an andante plaintively recalling past memories, and an allegro of exquisite taste. The song, even detached from the opera, has always been greatly admired in concert-rooms, and, it is said, was a special favorite also with the composer. It is followed by a duet for Sherasmin and Fatima ("On the Banks of sweet Garonne"), which is of a vivacious and comic nature in Sherasmin's part, and then pa.s.ses into a tender minor as Fatima sings.

The next number is a trio for soprano, alto, and tenor ("And must I then dissemble?"), written very much in the style of the trio in "Der Freischutz," and yet purely original in its effect. Reiza follows with a smooth, flowing, and pathetic cavatina ("Mourn thou, poor Heart"), which is succeeded in marked contrast by a joyous rondo ("I revel in Hope") sung by Sir Huon. The next scene is that of Sir Huon's temptation, a voluptuous pa.s.sage for ballet and chorus, interrupted at intervals by the energetic exclamations of the paladin as he successfully resists the sirens. The gay scene leads up to the finale.

Sir Huon and Reiza are bound to the stake, surrounded by slaves singing a weird chorus. A blast from the magic horn sets them dancing, and a quartet for the four princ.i.p.al characters based upon the subject of the slaves' Chorus ensues. Oberon appears and takes his leave after transporting the whole company to the royal halls of Charlemagne. A stirring march opens the scene, a beautiful aria by Huon follows ("Yes! even Love to Fame must yield"), and a chorus by the whole court closes the opera.

EURYANTHE.

The opera of "Euryanthe" was written for the Karnthnerthor Theatre, Vienna, where it was first produced Oct. 25, 1823, though not with the success which afterwards greeted it in Berlin, owing to the Rossini craze with which the Austrian capital was afflicted at that time. The libretto is by Helmine von Chezy, an eccentric old woman who proved a sad torment to the composer. The plot, which is a curious mixture of "Cymbeline" and "Lohengrin," was adapted from an old French romance, ent.i.tled "L'Histoire de Gerard de Nevers et de la belle et vertueuse Euryanthe, sa mie," and is substantially as follows:--

In the palace of King Louis of France, where a brilliant a.s.semblage is gathered, Count Adolar sings a tribute to the beauty and virtue of Euryanthe, his betrothed. Count Lysiart replies with a sneer, and boasts that he can gain her favor; but Adolar challenges him to bring a proof. The scene then changes to the castle of Nevers, and discloses Euryanthe longing for Adolar. Eglantine, who is also in love with Adolar, and who is conspiring against Euryanthe, soon joins her, and in their interview the latter rashly discloses the secret of a neighboring tomb known only to herself and Adolar. In this tomb rests the body of Emma, Adolar's sister, who had killed herself, and whose ghost had appeared to Euryanthe and her lover with the declaration that she can never be at peace until tears of innocence have been shed upon the ring which was the agency employed in her death. Lysiart arrives from court with a commission to take Euryanthe to the King, while Eglantine is left behind in possession of the secret.

In the second act Lysiart deplores his failure to obtain the favor of Euryanthe; but his hopes are renewed when he meets Eglantine emerging from the tomb with the ring, and learns from her that it can be made to convict Euryanthe of indiscretion, or at least of breaking her promise not to reveal the tomb secret. He obtains the ring, confronts Euryanthe with it at the palace, and forces her to admit the broken promise. Adolar, believing that she is guilty, drags her away to a wilderness where it is his intention to kill her; but on the way they are attacked by a serpent. Adolar slays the monster, and then, seized with sudden pity, he abandons his intention of killing her, but leaves her to her fate. She is subsequently found by the King while on a hunting expedition, and to him she relates the story of Eglantine's treachery. The King takes her with him to the palace. Meanwhile Adolar has begun to suspect that Euryanthe has been the victim of her base wiles, and on his way to Nevers to punish Lysiart he encounters the wedding-procession of the guilty pair, and challenges him. The King suddenly arrives upon the scene and announces Euryanthe's death, whereupon Eglantine declares her love for Adolar. The furious Lysiart turns upon her and stabs her. Euryanthe is not dead. She has only fainted, and is soon restored to her lover, while Lysiart is led off to the scaffold.

The overture, which is familiar in our concert-rooms, gives a sketch of the princ.i.p.al situations in the opera. The first act opens in the great banquet-hall of the King with a flowing and stately chorus ("Dem Frieden Heil") alternating between female and male voices and finally taken by the full chorus. Then follows Adolar's lovely and tender romanza ("Unter bluhenden Mandelbaumen"). The next number, a chorus ("Heil! Euryanthe"), with recitatives for Adolar, Lysiart, and the King leads up to a vigorous trio ("Wohlan! Du kennst"). Euryanthe's idyllic and touching cavatina ("Glocklein im Thale") is a match in beauty and tenderness for Adolar's romanza. The recitative which follows introduces a sentimental aria for Eglantine ("O mein Leid ist unermessen"), leading to a duet with Euryanthe ("Unter ist mein Stern gegangen"). A scena for Eglantine, characterized by all the hatred and fury of jealousy, introduces the finale, which consists of a vigorous chorus ("Jubeltone") accompanying Euryanthe's solo ("Frohliche Klange").

The second act opens with a powerful recitative and aria for Lysiart ("Wo berg ich mich"), which is full of pa.s.sion. A duet of a menacing and sombre character between Lysiart and Eglantine ("Komm denn unser Leid zu rachen") stands out in gloomy contrast with Adolar's aria ("Wehen mir Lufte Ruh'") and the duet with Euryanthe ("Hin nimm die Seele mein"), so full of grace and tenderness. They lead up to the finale, a grand quartet ("La.s.s mich empor zum Lichte"), with powerful chorus accompaniment.

The last act opens with the serpent episode, with characteristic music, and a recitative scene between Euryanthe and Adolar leads up to a pathetic cavatina for Euryanthe ("Hier am Quell wo Weiden stehn").

The ringing notes of the horns behind the scenes announce the approach of the King's party, who sing a fresh and sonorous hunting chorus ("Die Thale dampfen"). The remaining numbers are a duet for Euryanthe and the King with chorus ("La.s.st mich hier in Ruh' erbla.s.sen"), a lovely and melodious aria with chorus for Euryanthe ("Zu ihm"), a bright wedding-march and scene with chorus, and a duet for Adolar and Lysiart with chorus, leading to the grand quintet and chorus which bring the opera to a close.

APPENDIX.

A work of this kind, by whomsoever written, must be somewhat arbitrary in its selection of THE STANDARD OPERAS; and the writer has often found it difficult to say where the line should be drawn,--what excluded and what admitted. In addition to the operas treated of, there are others, without a mention of which such a work as this would scarcely be considered complete; and a list of these is herewith submitted, together with the dates of their first performance. Many of these are familiar to the public by their past reputation, while others still hold the stage in Europe. Others have never been given out of the native country of their composers; and still others, like those of Mr. Sullivan, are in reality operettas, and cannot be cla.s.sed as standard, although their popularity is extraordinary.